Mimi’s eyes brightened. “Let’s welcome them tomorrow. I’ll finish that blue cap for their little one.”
The next afternoon, they approached the house with a small gift wrapped in tissue. But what awaited them was unexpected. Rebecca, the new neighbor, was overwhelmed—unpacking, juggling parenting, and starting a new job. When her daughter Emma answered the door with a loud, “There are old people here!” Rebecca rushed over, clearly frazzled.
Mimi offered the blue cap with a warm smile. Emma’s eyes lit up, but Rebecca misunderstood. “We don’t need charity,” she said sharply. “And we’re not hosting strangers for dinner.”
Mimi’s expression dimmed. “We didn’t mean to impose.”
Barney gently placed his arm around Mimi’s shoulders and guided her home. That evening was a quiet one.
But a few days later, everything changed. Emma ran into the street while playing, just as a delivery truck rounded the corner. Before Rebecca could react, Barney—refilling his bird feeder across the road—sprinted over and pulled her daughter to safety.
Rebecca rushed to them, her voice shaky. “You saved her.”
Barney managed a smile. “Still got a little speed left in me.”
That night, Rebecca knocked on their door, her voice full of emotion. She invited them to dinner. Barney and Mimi arrived with a peace lily in hand. “They’re said to bring harmony,” Barney said kindly.
The meal was simple, but the table was rich with stories and laughter. Mimi and Barney spoke of Adam and how their tradition of shared dinners had helped heal their hearts. “We just couldn’t bear the silence,” Mimi said.
Emma, quiet until then, looked up. “Can I keep the cap now?”
Mimi smiled through teary eyes. “Of course, sweetheart.”
From that day on, Barney and Mimi were part of the family. They visited weekly, bringing thoughtful gifts, helping with homework, and sharing quiet wisdom. Mimi taught Emma how to crochet. Barney helped Lily, Rebecca’s youngest, feel more confident around dogs. They became cherished members of the neighborhood.
Years passed. Barney passed away peacefully. A few months later, Mimi followed. Their absence was deeply felt.
Every fall, Rebecca and her family visit the cemetery on the hill. They bring a roast chicken—Adam’s favorite—and set it between the two headstones. They share stories, laughter, and memories.
As they leave, they often notice two crows nearby, gently pecking at the picnic. Rebecca smiles. Maybe it’s just coincidence. Or maybe, in a way, it’s Barney and Mimi—still together, still sharing dinner, still watching over Silver Oak Street.